Shine
by SilverStarsAndMoons
Summary: This is a Private Practice oneshot fic, and it was born completely out of me getting a cold and needing fluff. AddisonCharlotte, angsty, fluffy, sweet little interlude on a cold L.A. day. They do happen!


**Shine**

_In this desert land_

_I know some rain must fall_

_See where we began_

_We've come so far_

It happens maybe once every five or ten years, but it does happen. Yes, America, it does snow in L.A., and although it never really sticks, and it just gums up the sidewalks and makes everyone miserable to see a palm tree frosted in white stuff, somehow, Addison is secretly pleased, because when it's winter, dammit, you should get some snow on the ground.

Charlotte King, on the other hand, is extremely annoyed, no less because she's fighting off a heinous cold and the National Weather Service has officially closed down the freeway. So, she's sitting at the Oceanside Health Clinic, because they called her over there for a patient, and she's got her arms crossed and her legs crossed and she's, well, pouting. And Addison finds it extremely cute, even though she's not letting on, because Charlotte would kill her.

"You know, in Georgia, it doesn't do this too much," Charlotte suddenly announces. Her throat is sore and scratchy, so her voice is a little more muffled than it normally would be. Her nose is clogged, so she can't really enunciate well, and Sam has to ask her to repeat herself, which leads to her waving her hands in annoyance. "Anyway," she says, "This is California, and it shouldn't snow here. And I want to go home and rest, because I feel like shit. Thanks to you and your public germ factory, here."

"Hey," Sam protests, holding up his hands. "How is this our fault? You work in a dirty hospital!" He ducks as Charlotte tosses a sofa pillow at him and then runs out the door. Addison starts laughing, but stops when Charlotte shoots her a look. "I'm sorry," she says, laughter still in her voice.

"Well, I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do. I'm sick and I'm tired, and I need to get home to feed my cat, and I can't get there because the stupid freeway is closed."

Addison looks at her, trying to keep up her cold front, and then her heart softens when she notices that Charlotte's hair is slightly messy; her cheeks are bright with fever, and she can't stop coughing. "You're not going to go anywhere. You can stay with me tonight; I have a spare room. Kitty will be fine for a night."

"No. Why would I stay with you, Montgomery? I might catch the quack disease," retorts Charlotte, but her resistance is weakening. It weakens even more when Addison sits beside her on the couch and places a hand over her forehead. "Fever says you're staying with me."

Violet and Naomi, who are both standing by the doorway, raise their eyebrows simultaneously. "Uh, Addie . . ." Naomi begins, but Addison shakes her head. "She's really sick, guys." They both look at her and when Charlotte starts coughing; Naomi takes an involuntary step back. "Okay, then."

"I hate the cold," Charlotte grumbles, and Addison smiles. "Well, thankfully for you, I know how to drive in the snow, so let's get out of here."

Charlotte gets to her feet a bit unsteadily – Addison knows well the dizziness that comes with a cold. "Just take it easy," she murmurs, and involuntarily puts a hand on the tiny blonde's back. She regrets it instantly as Charlotte startles, but she doesn't say anything and all three women make it out to the car, Addison for once not caring that her satin Prada pumps are getting stained with water.

_On this harbour shore_

_I hear the ocean call_

_In our minds at war_

_We have so far to go_

When they get to Addie's house, Charlotte's eyes are already drooping and she seems to have a little trouble breathing. Immediately, Addison shows her to the guest room. "Do you need something to put on?"

"Well, as I don't have anything in my purse, I think the answer would be yes," comes the crotchety answer, and Addison rolls her eyes. "Hold on."

She finds Charlotte a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, both of which almost drown her, because Addison is so much taller and Charlotte is knobby and bony and about ten inches around, if that. She goes into the kitchen to start a can of chicken soup on the stove and Charlotte follows her in.

"I don't want anything to eat," she almost whines, and Addison looks around at her. "Don't even start with me, King. You're eating and then you're going to take some cold medicine, and then you're going to bed, because you can barely stand up."

"Cold medicine does nothing."

"It's better than dying from something akin to SARS."

Charlotte actually laughs at that and sits down at Addison's kitchen table. "Sorry I have to be an unexpected houseguest."

"It's fine." Addison sets the table with a placemat and spoon, and then gets Charlotte a hot cup of peppermint tea and a shot of Johnnie Walker. Charlotte's eyes grow big when she looks at the shot. "What's this for?"

"Kill the germs," Addie grins, and pours a shot for herself. Charlotte rolls her eyes and after clinking glasses with Addie, downs it in one and doesn't even wince. "God, that feels great," she says, sounding a little clearer as the whiskey loosens the crap inside her chest.

Addison coughs a little on hers and gets up to get Charlotte her soup. The steaming bowl causes Charlotte's nose to run, but she eats a few bites to please Addison. When she puts her spoon down, though, Addison fixes her with a look. "Keep going."

"Shut up. You don't have to play doctor with me," says Charlotte sourly, but Addison picks up the spoon. "You eat, or I'll force you to. You don't eat near enough," she murmurs under her breath, and Charlotte stares at her. "What did you say?"

"I'm saying that you look like you're starving half to death. You work too hard."

"Well. It happens." Charlotte realizes that's a lame answer, tries to explain herself. "I have a hospital to run. I'm too young for the job," she suddenly blurts. Addison's face changes. "Why?"

"Because sometimes it's too much." Charlotte's voice is a bit wobbly, and Addison doesn't push her. "It's a lot when you're sick, for sure."

She gets up and pours them both another shot. "Down the hatch."

"Yeah."

It takes almost twenty minutes, but Charlotte eats all her bowl of soup without being asked again.

_Shine with all the untold_

_Hold the light given unto you_

_Find the love to unfold_

_In this broken world, we choose._

Addison is sliding between her cool sheets; she's listening to the wind against the glass and the sea outside the window, and she loves that it's cold enough for flannel pajamas tonight. Charlotte is in the room across the hall, where she collapsed about an hour ago. Apparently, her former insomnia problems are gone, because as soon as she hit the pillow, she began snoring. Addison suspects it may have something to do with the alcohol, but hey. Whatever floats your boat.

She's left the door of Charlotte's room a little bit open so that she can hear her if she needs anything in the night. She realizes that she's dealing with a grown woman, but it's old habit, really. If she was going to fall asleep on a gurney outside a patient's room, she would make sure that the door was ajar.

Addison's almost asleep when she hears Charlotte explode into a coughing fit across the hall. The coughs are harsh, tearing, chest-bursting paroxysms that make Addison's own chest hurt in sympathy, and they're not stopping, so Addison gets up and pads across the hall.

Charlotte's sitting up in bed and her breathing is harsh between her coughs, so without being asked, Addison fetches her inhaler from the bedside table and holds it to the tiny blonde's lips. Charlotte drags on it; takes a breath, drags again. "Oh, man," she chokes, and Addison supports her head and back. "Take it easy," she murmurs again, and Charlotte gets her coughing under control.

Without being asked, Addison gets into bed beside Charlotte and presses her lips to the girl's forehead. Charlotte's a little too sick to care at this point, so she doesn't protest; in fact, she cuddles a little closer to Addison.

"God, you're burning up, sweetie," says Addie, stroking back Charlotte's hair. "Why didn't you tell me you were asthmatic?"

"Just another issue you didn't need to know about," Charlotte gasps, and then her face suddenly crumples. "I hate being sick," she whimpers, and tries to burrow into the covers. Addison reaches for the bottle of Advil and the water that she put on the table beside Charlotte and shakes out two, grabbing the bottle of water. "We need to get that fever down," she says, and Charlotte obediently takes the pills. She cuddles down in bed and Addison lies beside her.

"Why'd you let me stay here?"

The question comes out of left field, and Addison lies in the dark for a moment. "Because you need someone to look after you."

"Everyone gets sick. It's not a big deal."

"That's not what I mean."

Charlotte turns over to face Addison, her face quizzical. "I could have stayed at Oceanside."

"And then you would have been suffering an asthma attack right now. You were certainly in no shape to get your inhaler when I found you."

Charlotte nods against the pillow and rolls back over, onto her other side, her back to Addison. "True." They're both silent, listening to the waves crash on the shore. "No one's ever cared this much about my health. I spend my days trying to keep everyone else's health in order. Everyone else just recoils when I get sick."

"Everyone deserves a little care, even if they are miserable and bitchy."

Charlotte laughs and starts to cough again. Addison pats her back until she gets it under control, but Charlotte's back is shaking and in another minute, Addison realizes that she's crying.

_In unending storms_

_We search for space to breathe_

_How our hearts are warm_

_We've come so far_

"Hey," she whispers. "Don't tell me you're going soft?"

"No," Charlotte sniffles. "I just sometimes get overwhelmed with how human you make me become."

Addison then feels, at this point, that it seems a natural progression to put her arms around Charlotte, and to have Charlotte cuddle back into the spoon of her body. They both sigh, and it's just nice – Addison has someone to take care of; and Charlotte has someone to take care of her.

_In this desert heart_

_We blossom and we cease_

_Tell your story now_

_We have so much to know_

Addison is up all night with Charlotte, rubbing Vicks on her back, supporting her when the cough gets too bad, helping her with her inhaler. Charlotte clings to Addison like a little child, especially when her fever gets really high and she starts to cry because it all really hurts and she can't be brave, even though she knows she's going to regret it.

"Damn, girl, when you get sick, you get really sick," Addison says at about four AM, when Charlotte coughs so hard that she has to run to the bathroom to throw up. She spends a little time wiping Charlotte's sweaty face and helping her sip at some water, and then she thinks that all of this is kind of a little beyond home care.

"I think you should go to the hospital."

"There's no way they're seeing me like this, Addison." They've resorted to using first names, now, which Addison likes, but knows won't last.

"You're really sick, sweetie. You're worrying me," Addison replies in her calmest tone, the one that's gotten thousands of women through the toughest birthing complications. Charlotte shakes her head again, though, so Addison shrugs and holds her close again, feeling the heat of her fever through both of their pajamas.

Charlotte sighs, her cough for the time being quelled, and turns her hot face into the pillow. "When I was a little kid, this used to happen a lot. I just got used to it."

"Your parents never took you to the hospital when you were this sick?" Addison can't fathom it. Her nanny called the hospital for every ache and fever that she had.

"Well, they were mostly drunk, so they pretty much slept through it. We had a nanny that gave us cough medicine when we were sick, but I learned to just push through an attack, unless it got really bad, and then yeah, I'd get to the hospital somehow. Our gardener drove me a few times when the nanny decided I should go."

Addison cuddles Charlotte closer. "Poor baby girl," she murmurs, and Charlotte laughs a little. "That was years ago."

"I suppose so. Seems that you're still having trouble taking care of yourself nowadays," Addison quips, and Charlotte nods. "Too busy, mostly."

"Too crotchety."

"That, too."

Charlotte turns over to look Addison in the eyes. "That still doesn't explain why you care this much. It can't be a friend thing."

In response, Addison presses her lips against Charlotte's forehead and cheeks again. "It's not."

_Shine with all the untold_

_Hold the light given unto you_

_Find the love to unfold_

_In this broken world_

In the morning, Charlotte's fever has broken, but she's so tired that she knows she can't focus on work. Luckily, the whole city has shut down, so she's able to call in sick, even though she hasn't done that in years. Addison, after calling Naomi, finds out that the practice is closed for the day, too, so she and Charlotte spend the morning lying around in bed.

"So, you're feeling better?" asks Addison, tracing her hand over Charlotte's smooth forehead, which is warm, but not burning like it was last night.

"Yeah, I guess." Charlotte still has a wicked cough, but she's resting a lot more comfortably.

"Great. You can make breakfast in a few hours."

"Screw you, Montgomery."

They both laugh and Addison leans forward to touch her lips to Charlotte's, just because the blonde looks so sweet and cuddly, lying there in bed. Charlotte isn't too sick to kiss Addison back, and for the moment, all is warm and sweet and relaxing.

"Thanks, Addison."

"Anytime, sweetie."

_Shine with all the untold_

_Hold the light given unto you_

_Find the love to unfold_

_In this broken world, we choose._


End file.
